


All Roads Lead To...

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Drabble, Jail, M/M, Shenanigans, roadtrip au, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 11:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: It's a long drive from one end of the planet to the other, and longer still when Wasp and Ironhide keep running into the same bad glitch.At least one of them finds it funny.





	All Roads Lead To...

**Author's Note:**

> Me and Ribbonelle talk about a lot of different au's and for Ironwasp, the roadtrip au is one of them. For the purposes of this au, just assume that like… they’re still robots on Cybertron but they also drive cars instead of turning into cars and otherwise run an eerily close parallel to humans. For that authentic road trip feel.   
> The prompt for this one was "Things you said while driving" and if I could, I'd write a full multi-chapter fic for this au which is just shenanigans like this on repeat until the end.

“Don’t say anything.”

It was turning out to be another hot one today, with the sun climbing steadily up into a clear sky and already casting its glare on the dusty highway in front of them. Wasp and Ironhide had both been up before the sun today, and one of them – the one in the driver’s seat with the stupid orange plating and the stupid hearty laugh – hadn’t stopped shooting Wasp an array of dumb grins since. He was doing it right now, lips pulled up at the sides like he’d caught Wasp stealing candy.

“I’m not saying anything.” Ironhide assured him, passing another cluster of construction signs on the road. He was the one who was driving because he was also the one who owned the ugly old pickup they’d basically been living in for the past ten solar cycles – and because Ironhide had been teasing Wasp just a megacycle earlier claiming that he wasn’t sure the mini could be trusted at the wheel anymore. What an aft.

“I’m just thinking—“

“No. Don’t do that either.” Wasp demanded with a heavy glare towards the driver’s seat. “Don’t talk, don’t think, just shut up and drive and maybe we can get out of this stupid county already.”

It had been a bad day. A bad night too, at least Wasp thought so, but Ironhide was downright _smug_.

“So you’re trying to skip the city-state now? That make me an accessory to the crime?” Ironhide eyed Wasp through the rearview mirror, optics crinkling at the corners in his amusement. “I dunno if I can handle that Wasp,” he admitted. “I’m not a hardened criminal like you are.”

“I was one night!” Wasp smacked the console between them with an open palm. It didn’t do anything for his temper or his mood, but it did introduce a nice solid ‘thwack’ into the otherwise ambient noise of wind past the open windows. The radio was off; the only stations that came in clear this far out in the middle of nowhere were country and _those_ Wasp refused to listen to. “It wasn’t even my fault!”

His protests fell on deaf audios. Ironhide had always loved country. “I dunno mech, I’m the one who had to pick you up from the station this morning.”

“Yeah, and you _met_ the little glitch who actually should have been in there last night!”

They had stopped in some tiny, rustwater town three megacycles out from Tesarus the night before. The town itself had absolutely nothing in it unless you were into unpaved streets and acres of farmland, but a few kleps outside its boundaries was an old hangar full of ancient Decepticon aircraft. A cool sight to be sure, but Wasp hardly thought it had been worth it now; a sudden storm had ensured that the two of them stayed in the town for at least the night, and that’s when Wasp had run into _him_.

“The little yellow mini?” For some reason Ironhide looked skeptical. “C’mon Wasp, that mech was even smaller than you. Didn’t think he’d be up to it.”

Well that was stupid. That little yellow glitchcase had been a bumbler from the start, with his bad jokes, and his ‘epic roadtrip’, and his dumb friend. It was like looking into a lamer, uglier, less successful mirror. And sure, maybe Ironhide hadn’t had the extreme pleasure of spending as much _time_ with the glitch as Wasp had endured last night, but there was no way he hadn’t noticed that fact.

“It was graffiti, not a bank robbery.” Wasp snapped, and honestly it was a bit insulting that Ironhide thought he would stoop to these levels. “Like I’d bother with something asinine like that.”

“Didn’t you do up Sentinel’s whole car in high school?” Ironhide pointed out.

He had. And he’d had a hand in the redecorating of Highbrow’s office the stellar cycle before as well. Wasp had been on the creative end of a spray can more than once – but that wasn’t the point. Sometimes he hated the fact that he’d known Ironhide since freshman year.

“Yeah, but that one was hilarious.” Wasp frowned behind his mouthguard and turned his optics out the passenger window; nothing but rubber plains and crystal crops. Why did anyone ever make the decision to live out here? “What that idiot did wasn’t even clever, and that puny _district’s_ puny sheriff is an idiot for mixing the two of us up.”

He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as much fun as tormenting that useless kid had been at the time, when the only real authority in the town had shown up the both of them had ran. It had been stupid, and now Wasp was _never_ going to hear the end of it.

Ironhide slapped a heavy servo on Wasp’s thigh with a familiarity Wasp wasn’t about to fall for. “I wouldn’t worry about it so much, mech.” He grinned and Wasp could already hear his stupidly endearing laughter. “I guess one crook just looks like another.”

“I was framed.”

“That’s what they all say.”

That’s when Wasp leaned back over and socked Ironhide in the shoulder to guffawed protests of ‘assault’. They were coming into another tiny back-oil town by now and Wasp’s tanks were running on empty.

“Can we at least get something to eat?” he asked, pulling his pedes off the dash where he’d been resting them. “I’m starving.”

“’M’not surprised.” Ironhide intoned as he turned the corner into the town’s main intersection – if there was any food to be had in this place, then it was going to be here. “After spending all night in the slammer.”

Something caught his optic as they passed in front of the local diner and Wasp tossed aside his idle death threats to point it out. Immediately. He wasn’t missing a chance when it was presented to him. “There. We’re stopping there.”

Ironhide glanced towards the restaurant. “Y’think it’s good?” He flipped the turn signal, always ready to try out yet another greasy spoon and Wasp barely restrained from rolling his optics.

“Who cares?” They pulled into their parking spot, and Wasp rapped his knuckles on the frame of his window as they passed by a familiar sight. “But I know whose car that belongs to, and Bumbler and his mud-flap friend are in for a surprise.”

He had a favour to repay.

 


End file.
